


The Stolen Kiss

by ashangel101010



Series: The Stolen Happiness [2]
Category: Chaotic (Cartoon)
Genre: Festival, Kissing, M/M, Najarin hates Vlar, The Stolen Kiss one-shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-09
Updated: 2012-09-09
Packaged: 2018-06-10 07:09:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6944842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashangel101010/pseuds/ashangel101010
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sequel to "The Stolen Mugic" story. There is a reason why Najarin spat Vlar's name out in "Yesterday's Heroes" episode.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Stolen Kiss

The Stolen Kiss

*

Suggested Themes:

Main Themes- Us by Regina Spektor, Sweet Disposition by The Temper Trap

*

            A sky-skinned boy leans over the shallow-edge of a lake shore and peers into the water. He is observing a heptagon Mugic with the initials “NKA” in the lake’s water. He waits in tense anticipation for the Mugic to react; his hope is that the Mugic shall do a tremendous feat if placed in the water at a certain time on a certain day. Yet to the Muge apprentice’s utter disappointment, nothing happened. The Mugic did not change color, or illuminate, or even exploded. He frowns like he lost a bet with a mortal enemy. He punches the water in frustration and watches the rippling effect. He feels entitled to the anger since he has been carrying out this experiment for nearly six years, two seasons, and a few dawns. All of those years of carefully experimenting the time and day for the Mugic’s potential reaction have been for naught. The greatest loss is his time. He could have used all those near mornings for sleep or studying a difficult scroll. Instead, he devoted his time to an experiment that was doomed for failure. He slipped away from his hut all those times and almost getting caught by his Master for absolutely nothing it seems. He sighs and retrieves the Mugic from the sandy bottom; the water feels chilly and almost mollifies his anger.

The sun decides to rise like a fearful child wanting to be brave. The sun’s rays bathe the lake with bright orange and pinkish red lights. Afjak was about to head home and crawl into his bed in utter defeat, but the sun’s rays seem to be beckoning him to stay and be washed by them like the lake. Afjak’s curiosity is ultimately why he plops back down on the shoreline and watches the work of nature unfold. The rays weave themselves into the rippling and slippery surface of the water like a skilled orator with words. Some of the lights skate across the surface before plunging deep in the water, turning icy blue to a skittish gold. Many of the lights were merely spotlights to show off the crashing and roaring waves. This display of natural wonders has eased Afjak’s disappointment considerably. Perhaps, this is a consolation for my wasted efforts? Maybe I wasn’t meant to solve this mystery, but be a spectator to the lake’s morning? Afjak smiles fondly at his whimsical thoughts. There is another benefit to this, but unlike the experiment, there is always the constant success of this one. A rock hits the back of Afjak’s head with perfect precision; he doesn’t turn his head or even yelped in pain. This happens to him every time he comes to the lake early in the morning; all he does is smile and counts down from twelve.

“Twelve, eleven, ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four-” He never makes it past four because he always gets tackled from behind and into the lake. He has to cough out some salty water before he can breathe again, while he listens to his tackler’s laughter ringing through his ears.

“Afjak, when will you ever learn?” A boy with murky-green skin will grin, showing off his pearly-white fangs to Afjak like always.

“It seems I never will, Vlar.” Afjak beams up like he has gotten a compliment form his Master and playfully splashes Vlar. Vlar then kicks a wave into Afjak’s smiling face, some of the salt gets into his ocean eyes and he hisses in discomfort. Vlar frowns a bit and wipes Afjak’s tears with the end of his red tunic. He feels obligated to do so for causing Afjak pain, Afjak is after all _his_ best friend.

“So, how were the Mines?” It is a standard question/greeting that Afjak would ask whenever Vlar was at the lake.

“As usual, depressing and rich. I even brought back a treat for us!” Every now and again, Vlar would share some sort of treasure that he, ahem, acquired. Afjak knows that Vlar uses the tree that as a child (Afjak considers himself an adult in comparison to his six year-old self) he stashed maps in. Vlar uses it also as a place to hide his treasures, mostly the kind that he can sell in a week or two. It would only take a minute before Vlar would come back with whatever treat he had in mind. Some of his treats were really angry, practical jokes that Vlar would pull because he felt, well, angry and hurt. In those situations, Afjak bares the hurtful jokes with a mere grimace though he would rather cry. He only does that because he doesn’t want his Master to ask questions and potentially maim Vlar for being the cause of his tears. Oddly enough, this unannounced anger would only transpire when Afjak goes to help out girls with carrying their firewood (he’s renown for finding and carrying kindling) and receiving a kiss on the cheek for a reward.

“Here, but I have to warn you it’s a little hot.” The treasure in question is something that looks like a mere stone but with etchings of red lines that form some strange circle. And Vlar’s little warning about the stone being hot; it wasn’t strong enough to describe how hot it really was. The surprise of the heat made it so much worst. The stone is like the climax of fire in the hearth, meaning it is incredibly hot at first but diminishes with time. Since Vlar is practically immunized of heat due to his constant travels to the UnderWorld, he did not really get why Afjak used his own blue tunic as a medium between the stone and his hand.

“So, are you going to the festival with a special girl?” Afjak asked. The festival is held at the end of the harvest season where any extra crops, those that didn’t sell, are used as food for the festival. Namely, the festival is used as an excuse for the villagers to drink some spirits and dance uninhibited. Since children, anyone who isn’t over twenty, cannot handle the spirits (except Vlar) the festival is used as a chance to showcase couples. The couples are usually those destined to be together or will most likely settle for. For those who weren’t in a relationship, the alternative is to bring the closet opposite-sex friend as the stand-in, future spouse. The children would try to one-up each other with their dates or fight over whose date is the prettiest. The boys are the ones that do the fighting while the girls look on with amusement or scoff at their stupidity.

“All the girls here are too poor for me and more man than girl. So do you have a date, Afjak?” The way Vlar says, no drawls, his name, makes chills go down his spine. Afjak peers at the stone like he is trying to figure what the purpose of it was other than some UnderWorld decoration.

“I…..don’t.” Afjak seems so morose about lacking a date that Vlar decides to change the subject for now.

“You’re supposed to suck on that fancy red symbol and blow out the smoke that enters your mouth.” Afjak looks at Vlar, not entirely certain if he should do as Vlar says. It’s not like he doesn’t believe Vlar, it’s just he isn’t as tough as Vlar. A burn to Vlar is like a superficial scratch, but to Afjak it is like being gutted. Vlar sees Afjak’s hesitation and decides to remedy it.

“Fine, I’ll go first.” Vlar gingerly puts his green lips to the stone like it was the hand of some great Creature. He slowly sucks on the stone like an octopus’s suction and has one red pupil on Afjak. He can see the way Afjak squirms like he wants to join, but he can also see beneath squirming that Afjak is confused emotionally. Corners of Vlar’s mouth perk up like he thinks it is humorous. Afjak is only in the early stages of puberty. He is visibly taller than he was six years ago, but he is still pretty scrawny as before. His hair is longer too, but that’s probably because he hasn’t cut it yet. The long hair probably would make anyone think he’s a girl, it didn’t help that Afjak’s face is still chubby like a child’s. Yet, those eyes are probably never going to change even though Afjak’s body will evolve awkwardly. The eyes are like the twinkling blue of an ocean, though Vlar has never seen an ocean before, and lit up so bright and warm whenever Afjak is happy or curious. Those innocent eyes have always lightened Vlar’s mood or heal away those emotional scars left behind from his no-account father and dead mother. The eyes were also fun, at times, to see tears come out and make them red like Vlar’s. It was almost like the red meant Afjak was his for the moment and not the old Muge’s son. Vlar can feel the dirty and heavy smoke rolling in his mouth. He blows the smoke right into Afjak’s eyes.

“Vlar! You shouldn’t do that!” Afjak strained out as he rubs his eyes in pain. Yeah, this is one of his mean pranks! Afjak grimaces and prepares for an onslaught of verbal abuse and maybe a teary denial.

“Lighten up, will you, it’s just smoke! Go on and suck on that stone, I’ll even let you blow smoke in my eyes.” Afjak chews his lip in thought for a second and then decides to suck on the stone. He presses his blue lips to the stone like he’s giving it a gentle kiss and sucks on it. His sucking is muted and clean, unlike Vlar’s which was loud and sloppy. Afjak has his eyes closed so he is unable to see the rapt attention that Vlar is giving him. The smoke builds in Afjak’s mouth and almost swallows it out of reflex. He finally opens his eyes to see the anticipation of Vlar’s eyes. What is he so anxious about? Afjak wondered like a protected child. He blows the smoke in front of him instead of in Vlar’s face, it looks so white and clean like wisps of snow. He remembers Vlar’s smoke as bunched up and black like dark soot. He winces at the stinging sensation his eyes retain thanks to Vlar’s smoke attack. Afjak could have easily gotten back at Vlar for it, but he cannot even with Vlar’s consent. He doesn’t feel right or happy to see Vlar in pain, no matter what Vlar has done to him. He didn’t always feel that way like during the “rocky beginnings” of their friendship when Vlar used him as his personal slave.

“Still goody-goody I see!” There seems to be lightness in Vlar’s sarcastic tone like he is actually relieved that Afjak didn’t take of advantage of the “promise” that Vlar crazily swore to.

“Hey, you know since you don’t have a sweetheart and I don’t have one either, want to go together?” Originally, Afjak was going to use “want to be each other’s sweethearts?” but it would imply that Afjak wanted their friendship to be more. It wasn’t like that Afjak was brought up to vilify males being with other males or females being with other females, unless it was an OverWorlder being with a UnderWorlder, but it was just that he was too young for romance as his Master proclaims. His Master isn’t against such couplings, in fact, he is Kiru’s confidant whenever the OverWorld leader fell in “love” with a single (and sometimes not) male Tribesmate and needed “love” advice. Kiru is an absolute disaster when it comes to love, but his Master clarifies that Kiru is afraid of “commitment” that his lovers eventually demand of him and later leave because Kiru refused to give it. Afjak didn’t really understand why Kiru did this until he got to know Vlar better. Even though Vlar would refuse to acknowledge this, Kiru and Vlar are virtually the same when it comes to relationships. They both want freedom and relationships mean giving up said freedom for another person, and they just aren’t “emotionally prepared” as his Master would say for commitment. Vlar has taken nearly a minute, mostly sucking on the stone and puffing out smoke like a fireplace on snowy days.

“Fine, I’ll be late though. I have some unfinished business in the Mines that I need to finish.” Afjak smiles so brightly that Vlar feels light like he has swallowed sunbeams. And then Vlar feels those thin, awkward arms wrap around him in a loving (Vlar views it as that) embrace. Heat leaves his soul and zigzags through his heart and stomach until it reaches below the naval. Afjak scampers off like the scroll-smart goof that he is. Vlar stays where he is, all hot and mellow, and stares out at the lake. The lake is almost a bright blue with the sun finally awake and alive, almost blue like Najarin’s eyes. The old Muge is probably wondering where his precious son is and Afjak will make up some lie so his “Master” won’t be disappointed him. Vlar and Najarin tolerate each other and sometimes exchange forced pleasantries when they bump into each other. Vlar knows that Najarin has been keeping an eye on him since Vlar ran away from Kiru, and it irritates Vlar to no end. Vlar’s lips spread into a wicked smile as a malicious idea forms into his head. He now has a plan to make the festival more “festive” for Najarin and especially Afjak.

*

The harvest has turned out bountiful and fortuitous for the OverWorlders this year, which meant the festival has tables of fresh food and joyous Creatures. The farmers are groping their chalices and sometimes their spouse, while their children are happily munching on their snacks and holding hands with their potential spouse. All of the children have sweethearts, except for his son, Afjak. Afjak is leaning against a tree not out of loneliness but like he is eagerly waiting for something. Najarin feels a bit guilty for his son being dateless. Whenever Afjak volunteers to help some farm girl with a task, Najarin is usually stalking his son and offering a civil glare at the girls. It isn’t like the girls are going to try anything on him, mostly because Afjak isn’t terribly “handsome” in their eyes, or hurt him. Najarin just wants to make sure that Afjak doesn’t get too close to them. Close as in attachment, Najarin knows that Afjak is very, _very_ innocent and for some reason Najarin viewed almost everyone as a threat to his son, even the little farm girls. Kiru is an exception because Kiru isn’t fond of blue skin, which is why Najarin or his deceased wife has never been on the receiving end of Kiru’s amorous flirtation. The poor little farm girls would cringe and hurriedly thank Afjak and leave whenever they saw the master Muge around, while Afjak is left confused by the girls sudden exit.

Najarin turns his head when he hears the laughing roar of Kiru. The purple, towering OverWorld leader is with a small group of Tribesmates. He has a large, misshapen chalice in his hands with purple liquid sloshing about as he is being jolly with the others. Kiru is very gregarious which makes him a natural leader for the Tribe to follow, but he is also promiscuous. The lovers that he has had could probably make a village. Yet, Kiru always is able to end it in a way that allows his lovers not to be too bitter. Najarin firmly knows that his old friend will probably never have a family of his own because he can’t settle, but a Tribe can be considered a great substitute. Kiru’s laughter seems to cease and he stares at the horizon. The rest of the Tribe has fallen silent at their leader’s silence, though some mutter curses. Najarin doesn’t understand why until he sees Vlar strut onto the scene. Vlar has never attended a festival, so why is here now? Some of the villagers begin to whisper about thievery and cruelty, what Vlar is known for. Kiru glares at the mutterers and silence falls upon the Tribe again. Since today is the festival, Kiru is giving Vlar a chance to be good for a day. Kiru doesn’t trust or like Vlar, but he believes in second chances.

“Hello, Vlar.” Vlar is frowning like he is about a second away from spitting in Kiru’s face. Kiru stands his ground by frowning right back at the teal thief.

“Goodbye, Kiru.” Vlar brushes past Kiru and heads to the area where all the children are gathered. The children stop their laughter and bragging when they see Vlar. They were mostly afraid of Vlar because of the stories they heard from their parents. Afjak straightens up and smiles at Vlar. Najarin frowns because he has never seen Afjak with this questionable character, or even heard “Vlar” come from his son’s lips. So why does he seem so happy?

“Vlar, you finally made it!” His son knows Vlar, the infamous Vlar that has stolen from Kaal and lives to sell his pilfered wares. Vlar’s tough-boy scowl turns into a smirk, a rather sinister looking one like he has something up his sleeve. Najarin begins to feel a sense of dread enter his mind and he tenses.

“How long have you been clinging to that tree?” Vlar is so nonchalant that Najarin relaxes a bit. Perhaps Vlar isn’t going to do something horrendous, Najarin can only hope. Even if Vlar does something to his son, Najarin can instantly wipe the dirty scoundrel out of existence.

“I think an hour, but that’s okay. I will always wait for you!” Afjak’s voice shrills his innocent promise and Vlar chuckles. It only took a few seconds for Najarin to process what happened in the next second. Vlar cups Afjak’s face and yanks his son closer. His son makes an uncomfortable sound and opens his mouth to complain, but he is silent by Vlar. To be accurate, Vlar’s lips capture Afjak’s mouth and bind the sound within. It only lasts two seconds.

“What Kaal burned your tongue?” Vlar teases Afjak when he sees Afjak freeze in place. It wasn’t until he felt callous hands upon his throat that he began to understand Afjak’s stillness. The air that entered Vlar’s throat is cut off at the base of his throat because Najarin is literally strangling it out of Vlar. Vlar instinctively tries to pry the Muge’s strong hands from his throat, but he is far too lightheaded for the energy required to succeed in the task. Afjak’s face is growing dimmer in Vlar’s vision.

“YOU EVIL, THIEVING, LITTLE CREATIN! YOU DARE VIOLATE MY SON! I WILL-” The hands at his throat that were about to completely crush his windpipe are gone. Vlar gasps and takes in a gulp of fresh air before looking up to see Afjak with a stone chalice in his small hands. The innocent boy looks terrified at what he’s done, but Vlar is glad that he didn’t cause it for once. Najarin begins to shift like he is about to regain consciousness.

“Run, Vlar, get as far as you can!” Vlar doesn’t hesitate for a second, he bolts out of the village with only looking back once at Afjak. Afjak is touching his lips and has a dark blue blush across his face; it seems that he enjoyed his first kiss. Vlar was going to shout a perverted pledge at him, but then he sees Najarin awake and already running after him. Vlar has never been scared in his life, except when his mother died, but seeing the blood red glint in the Muge’s eyes has awake that long forgotten emotion. He can hear the promise of death and profanities from the Muge, and Vlar just keeps on running.

*


End file.
